That night, after I was angrily dismissed from Master's room, I sobbed my way down the hall to my quarters. I cursed myself as I lay upon my beaten-down padding, hugging the thin blanket to me. I would have sold my front teeth for a bottle of booze. As I lay there thinking, I began to take at least some hope in that Master hadn't thrown me out of the house. That had to mean something. But what? I knew my commitment was strong, and that gave me the energy to feel hopeful. I would suffer any humiliation for James. He needed only to ask. Go to a football game wearing makeup and a frilly dress? Yes, Master! Turn to an old lady on a bus and tell her how much I loved licking my Black Master's asshole every morning? I would be heading for the nearest bus stop. If ever Master forgave me for my behavior, I might dare to mention some of these ideas. But for that moment, all I could do was wait.
I eventually fell asleep, and was wakened by a sound outside the door. I looked about for my clothes, but they were nowhere in sight. I wrapped myself in the blanket and cracked open the door.There was a plate of food on the floor. From somewhere in the house, I heard a woman's voice and the sound of dishes being put away. My God! It was Steph! Had she brought the food? Did she know I was here? Of course she did. I heard James's voice then, and laughter. I grabbed the food and quietly closed the door. The meal consisted of scrambled eggs, bacon, and potatoes. There were no utensils. The food did me good. I helped settle my mind a bit. I sat cross-legged on the mat and licked my fingers.
Stephanie's presence was something I had not expected, and I wondered, not without fear, what would come of it. How much would she learn of my situation with James? She was, after all, his girlfriend. The notion that she had once been mine seemed absolutely ludicrous in light of my recent transformation into a Negro-worshipping dog. Yes, inspired by my awe of James, I had become a lowlife dog whose greatest ambition was to go still lower. Verbalizing this in my mind brought a smile to my lips. Oddly enough, I now had an ambition in life, something to strive for. This was quite new to me. Being molded into whatever James cared to make of me was exciting. He had full rein. Whatever command came from his lips, I would immediately fulfill it. I had no preferences. I wanted only to obey the words of Master. But for now, I was in hot water.
In the middle of this reverie, there came a knock on the door.
"Jack?" It was Master's voice! I went to the door, knelt, and turned the knob. James stood there, finely dressed and eating a donut.
"Good morning, sir." I said, my voice barely audible, my eyes downcast. Master seemed surprisingly cheerful considering his wrath of the night before.
"Top of the morning to you, Jack!" he declared. "Isn't that what you Irish folk say? In any case, it's a new day. How do you plan to spend it?"
"I....I....well...." I stammered.
"That wasn't a fair question, was it Jack?" James said licking a crumb from his lip. "You'll spend it listening to me and doing what I tell you, right?"
A wave of love swept through me as I heard these words, this benediction. I looked up to Master with complete devotion. Master petted me on the head.
"I want to make up for last night." I blurted out, feeling tears forming in my eyes.
"I know that you will do just that, boy. I know. By the way, we have company, Jack."
"Yes. Stephanie. I heard her voice." I said. Anxiety eroded the bliss of a moment before.
"She's very excited about our goings-on, you know. We were just talking about you over breakfast. We'll go see her in a sec." James said. "Now, I'll be right back. Get your kneepads on in the meantime."
In a minute, James returned. He handed me a pair of fingerless gloves, the kind people wear at a gym.
"Put these on. You're going to be doing some crawling, little man." James said cheerfully.
Dressed in just kneepads and gloves, I knelt before the Master.
"Let's see." Master said, looking about the room. "Get that blanket, boy."
I rushed over to my mat on my knees, grabbed the blanket, and rushed back.
"That's my boy." James said approvingly. "Good boy."
Now, you and I are going to make a grand entrance into the living room. Stephanie is waiting for us there. Are you excited?"
"Yes, Master, but also a bit nervous."
That's natural, Jack. But you'll see. We'll all get along just fine. Okay, get down on all fours, Jack." Master ordered. Once in position, Master folded the blanked several times and placed it on my back.
"This will have to do as a saddle for now, Jack."
My heart leapt! I was to be Master's beast of burden! I would proudly bear the Master on my back! James straddled me and then slowly lowered his weight.
"We'll get some genuine equipment, eventually, Jack. Bridle, maybe a child's saddle. But a real one."
"I'm so proud to have you ride me, Master. To me, this old blanket is spun from gold."
"Well, shall we?" Master queried, and I took a few tentative "steps".
Master let his feet trail lightly on the floor as we moved down the hallway.
"Jack, let's do this in style. When we get close to the living room, I want you to neigh like a horse. You can do that, can't you. You've seen a few westerns."
I turned my head to look up at the Master, my eyes expressing, unequivocally, that I would neigh and whinny my heart out for this man.
Approaching the door to the living room, my pulse quickened. I hadn't seen Stephanie outside of work since our breakup. Even though I was a mediocre lover and had refused to stand up to James when he had groped her in the copy room at work, there was a fragment of manhood somewhere in my marrow that was still clinging to some false credibility, and, so, appearing before Steph in this debased form challenged me. But, really, I thought, what's the point of this manhood business. I'd fucked it up entirely, proving to myself repeatedly that the pair of balls between my legs was a joke, a remarkable error of creation. I was a man in the most literal sense: I had the equipment.
But my life was a train wreck - hiding from the world, losing myself in fantasy, getting wasted, and doing the same boring job day in and day out, afraid to look for something better.
Yet, in that moment, crawling down the hallway, I suddenly felt so fortunate, blessed, really. I had made myself appealing to a strong, accomplished man; a man I had no trouble idealizing. He was everything I wasn't. Could I celebrate this great fortune even before Stephanie? My answer came in the full-throated horse sounds that issued from deep inside me. I quickened my pace, urged on by light prodding from Master's heels, and we entered the room. I threw back my head and whinnied again, then crawled slowly to a seemingly astonished Stephanie.
She was sitting on the couch, her long, tanned legs stretched out before her.
"My goodness! Jack, just look at you!" With that, Stephanie leaned forward, trying, without success, to control her laughter. All of my false pride melted under Steph's amused gaze. I was her boyfriend's horse. That is, when I wasn't busy being his dog. This was who I was, and having Steph as witness to it was devastating in the most wonderful way. I could see clearly that this was my place in life, that I had finally found it. I felt a deep sense of peace and humility. I also felt remarkably turned on.
James's weight on my back was pure bliss.
"I'd dismount, but this is just too much fun, Steph!" James said.
"Oh, my. It seems your pony is aroused, James. Is that permitted?"
I looked away as Stephanie bent forward to take a closer look.
"Stiff as a board. Too bad you couldn't get it like that when we were fucking, Jack. Things might have turned out differently."
